Out of Order
by AmazingLadar
Summary: It all started with the psychic who found himself at held at gunpoint in New York... wait, no, it started with the diamonds. No, no, that's not right, it started with the bank robbery. No, pretty sure it started in New York, 1997. However it started, Juliet and Lassiter were on the case, and they are determined to get to the bottom of it.
1. The Theft

**Hello lovelys! I'm baaaack!**

**I had this on my profile titled "In No Particular Order" but I've decided to change it to "Out of Order". It's a rather short fic in chapter length, 6 maybe 7 chapters, but each chapter is a fairly decent length.**

**This is set pre season 7 finale. While I loved the series finale, it doesn't give me much to work with, so all my psych fics will be pre season 7 finale, unless stated otherwise.**

**But yes, please review!**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara and Carlton Lassiter walked together, side by side, on their way to interrogation room D. It had taken them a couple minutes to find the right hall to go down, New York did everything differently to the way they did it back in sunny Santa Barbara. Carlton took long, fierce strides towards the interrogation room, an annoyance building up inside of him that only a Spencer could cause. Juliet, with her shorter legs, had to take very quick steps to simply keep up with her partner, a look of pure worry fixed on her face.

At last, the y reached the interrogation room. Carlton took in a quick, deep breath before pushing in the doors and walking in, Juliet following closely behind him. They both walked up to the table in the middle and each took a seat in front of their suspect.

"Alright," Carlton started, "Let's please just be quick and get this over and done with."

Their suspect arched an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his face, as if he didn't realise the immense trouble he was in. "Why Lassie," he said, "If I didn't know any better, I would almost say you weren't happy to see me!"

"Spencer!" Carlton snapped. "You have dragged me from my _bed_ back in _California_ halfway across the world! The absolute _least_ you could do is cooperate with us!"

Shawn Spencer blinked twice at the Head Detective before turning his stare at his girlfriend. "Wow, he's a grouchy one today, isn't he?"

"Shawn," Juliet said calmly, "Just tell him what he wants to know. It's time to come clean."

Upon hearing his girlfriend's serious and worried tone, Shawn shaped up. His smile faded and he finally accepted his situation. He turned towards Carlton and said, "Alright, man, what do you want to know?"

Carlton was surprised at first. Spencer? Cooperating? There must be a catch! "Just tell us how you got to New York and why you had the stolen diamonds in your pocket."

"Now, Lassie-face, those are two very different slightly unrelated questions. You're going to have to be more specific."

There's the catch.

"This isn't a joke, Spencer. Just tell us everything from the beginning."

"The beginning is a complicated thing… You'll have to tell me from where to start."

Carlton started to lose his patience, "Oh my God. The beginning! The diamonds! Explain that!"

"Fine, diamonds," Shawn said simply. "I can explain that. You see, Lassie, I had actually planned it all out quite in depth. I mean, I had to. My life kind of depended on it…"

* * *

Five days ago

Shawn was still up at two o'clock in the morning. He inched his way out of the bed and stealthily made his way to the kitchen, terrified of the possibility of waking up Juliet. He sat down at the kitchen table, careful not to let the chairs or table drag on the floor. Juliet had noticed that Shawn was acting a bit weird over the past couple days, the last thing Shawn needed was for her to see him up at this hour. Well, no, the last thing Shawn needed was to have Juliet see what he was planning.

Displayed all across the table was fliers and detailed plans of a museum. Opening times were 8:00– 18:00. That meant Shawn had exactly six hours before the museum opened. By then, the diamonds _will_ be gone. Shawn would have an alibi thanks to Juliet. She saw him go into bed with her, and so long as Shawn didn't wake her up when he left, Shawn should be fine. He'd be back in bed by 6, and she would never know that he had left. So that was his alibi sorted out. Next step: getting into the museum.

Now, of course, a museum is home to many priceless beauties. One in particular, the newest addition to the museum, is the Lost Diamonds. Legend has it, pirates had come to Santa Barbara carrying treasures that people could only dream of. Before arriving, they were ambushed by other pirates. The entire crew and captain died that night. Before they took the captain's life, however, he threw all his treasures overboard. If he couldn't have them, no one could. Now, most of his treasures had resurfaced and were being distributed all throughout California. Santa Barbara was home to the Lost Diamonds.

Shawn focused to the point at hand. He stared at the maps of the museum that he had laid out. He knew which entrance to take, he had decided that long ago. A building to the left of the museum had a fire escape. Shawn intended to climb up it until he reached the third story of the museum. The only way in from that point was to smash the window. If that didn't sound an alarm, someone would surely call the police and report the occurrence. That gave Shawn a maximum of two minutes to go in, grab the diamonds, and get out. It was doable. Very hard and very dangerous, but it was doable.

Now, once inside, Shawn needed the perfect tactic to get the diamonds in a quick manner. There were security guards all throughout the third floor, the same floor the diamonds happened to be on. But Shawn figured the smashing of the window would distract majority of them. While going through the first corridor when he walked in to the building would take him to the diamonds the quickest, Shawn couldn't take it. That corridor is also the fastest route for the security guards to get to the broken window and investigate the noise. So Shawn would circle around, taking the corridor on the right. After that, he would have to run like his life depended on it.

The diamonds were most likely going to be covered in a glass case. Assuming that the security guard was successfully distracted by the crashing of the window, Shawn would simply walk up to it, smash the glass and grab the diamonds. Once he smashed the glass, the guards would no doubt return to the site of the crime, hopefully making his entrance point empty. Shawn would then run back out that window, down the fire escape, and run like the devil himself was after him.

That was Shawn's plan. The aim was to be quick. If that meant making a bit of noise as well, so be it. Shawn figured there's no point in trying to be subtle about stealing the diamonds. It wasn't like if he didn't make a lot of noise they wouldn't realise they were gone. They'd find out eventually, so he might as well get it done quickly. He knew there were a lot of assumptions made in his plan and he knew how many possibilities there were for it to go wrong. He had to do it, though. He had to steal the diamonds.

So, the plan once again fresh in his mind, Shawn walked out his front door.

* * *

Shawn parked his bike a few blocks away from the building. He knew it was a risk bringing his own personal ride to a crime, but he had taken precautions – albeit, illegal precautions. Using a black cloth, Shawn hid his license plate, should the police decide to look at any cameras along this street. Shawn pulled out gloves and a ski mask. He quickly shoved his hands in the gloves and put the ski mask on his head, not yet covering his face. He cleaned the soles of his shoes, careful not to bring in any mud to the crime scene. He didn't want any footprints to be found. He pulled out the hammer he had stolen from his father's house days before and tucked it into his belt. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the fragments of porcelain he had gathered before. Shawn's father was _not_ impressed when he returned the spark plug with all the porcelain broken off, but he didn't care. Feeling reassured that his one way to enter the museum was safely with them, he shoved it back in his pockets. He took in a deep breath and moved towards the museum.

Climbing up the fire escape proved harder than Shawn thought it would be. He had to make a jump and then pull himself up before he could even start going up the stairs. So far, what was meant to be one of the easiest parts of his plan turned out to be very difficult. If this was the pattern his plan was taking, Shawn would regret ever coming up with it.

When he finally got onto the third floor, he stared across at the museum's window. The good news: it was a full length window, meaning he easily climb through from the fire escape. The bad news: it was a good three feet away from the fire escape. Which of course means that escape will be a lot harder once he actually steals the diamonds, and, of course, entrance isn't much easier either. Nothing was turning out to be as easy as he thought it would. Shawn groaned and reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out one of the porcelain fragments.

"Please, for the love of God, work," Shawn muttered to himself.

Shawn threw the porcelain against the window hard, and sure enough, it shattered into pieces. He took a second to let the shock absorb him. The yells from inside the museum quickly reminded Shawn of his time limit. He climbed up onto the railing of the fire escape, steadying himself by hanging on to the rail above him. He took a deep breath before leaping for his life, from the fire escape through the window. Surprised that he had made it okay, Shawn stared back through the window at the fire escape. The approaching footsteps reminded Shawn of his time limit. He had less than two minutes to grab the diamonds and get the hell out of there. So Shawn took off, running quickly down the corridor to his right.

He ran as fast as he could, fully aware of the time ticking away second by second. Eighteen seconds later and the diamonds were in sight. Unfortunately for Shawn, so was the security guard that decided to stay. Shawn cursed softly and tried to think of a way to get to the diamonds and get out. He now had less one minute and forty seconds. Think, _think_! Shawn stared at the hammer still tucked away in his belt. He _could_ whack the security guard on the head –

'_What are you thinking?!'_ Shawn thought to himself. '_You're con man, you're a thief, but you are _not_ a murderer! You're not even violent! No blood is getting spilt, even if it is just to phase them!' _The fact that the thought had even occurred to Shawn scared him senseless. How desperate could he be?

One minute twenty two seconds.

Shawn started to grow restless where he stood in the shadows. If that security guard didn't leave within the next twenty seconds, Shawn would be forced to do something he may never forgive himself for. Of course he would try to distract him, or try to just knock him down. He would never _intentionally_ kill someone, no matter how desperate times became. But he had to think of a plan! he had to think of one now!

One minute six seconds.

Five.

Four – Oh, Shawn really didn't want to hurt anyone!

Three –

'Jack, come in Jack,' the security guard's walkie-talkie roared to life.

The security guard – apparently called Jack – pulled the walkie-talkie off his belt and answered, "Hey, Bobby, what's up?"

'We've got a disturbance on the East window. Looks like someone broke in, but we can't find anyone. I've sent Stuart to do a perimeter check, and I'm going to stay by the window in case he tries to leave again. Could you check out some of the corridors?'

"Sure thing," Jack answered and started walking towards the corridor on Shawn's left. Shawn stayed very still and tried to control his breathing, at the same time trying to listen in on the conversation. "Have you notified the police?"

'Didn't need to,' Bobby answered. 'The broken window triggered an alarm. They should be here in less than a minute.'

'_Shit!'_ Shawn thought. _'Walk away faster!' _he inwardly screamed at the security guard.

When he was finally satisfied that the security guard was far enough away, Shawn sneaked quietly out of his hiding place and towards the diamonds. Sure enough, a glass case was covering it. it didn't seem to be a very thick glass, maybe double glazed. The spark plug porcelain _should_ do the trick, and the rest he could take out with the hammer.

Shawn took a couple steps back and pulled out the porcelain. He then threw it with all his might at the glass case. Most of it shattered, or at least cracked all over. It would be easy to take the rest out with his hammer. However, he was pressed for time. He could already hear Jack the security guard start to run back to his post. Shawn ran up to the diamonds, smashed away the glass with the hammer, and then he grabbed the diamond. He shoved them in his pocket and turned to make a getaway.

"Hey!" Jack yelled when Shawn turned around. Shawn thanked his lucky stars he had decided to wear a ski mask. "Stop what you're doing, put those diamonds back!"

Shawn zeroed in on the fact that Jack had a gun around his waist. The last thing he wanted was for Jack to use it. That would get Shawn's blood everywhere, if he even managed to get away after that. And now he was _definitely_ pressed for time. Twenty seconds left, tops. So Shawn took off, running into the corridor the furthest away from Jack.

He ran just as his father taught him, zig zags. He knew Henry never intended for him to use it in this scenario, but he had no choice. So he ran and he ran.

Finally, he came out the corridor and saw his window. His wide open, broken window, his escape. And it was blocked. Bobby was standing there, and he _definitely_ noticed Shawn.

"Hey!" Bobby yelled, and his hand flew to his gun. Shawn didn't even wait for the threat, he took off running in the opposite direction of Bobby, zig zags as usual. He ran through the halls until he reached the balcony of the third floor right next to the stairs, on which he could stare down onto the main entrance. He could see the blue and red flashing lights, and that was when Shawn knew. Time was up.

"Hey, you!" a third unidentified security guard called out at Shawn. That one must be Stuart.

Shawn turned around to run in the opposite direction, only to see Jack and Bobby hot on his tail. Stuart's hand inched towards his gun, and Shawn knew he had to get out of there now. He looked over the balcony, trying to see if it was worth it at all to jump. There were banners that were hanging off the balcony. Shawn could do it as they did in movies and climb down it. Not seeing any other option, he ran towards the balcony.

Shawn jumped over the railing and grabbed hold of the banner. He started to climb down it, when he heard a terrifying sound; the ripping of the banner. To drop from where he was now would be a very painful, very permanently damaging fall. To make matters even better, Shawn could see the police start to file into the museum, majority of which had noticed him and were making their way up the stairs. Shawn looked around quickly, trying to figure out what to do. If he climbed down just a couple more feet, he would reach the second floor railing. He could grab hold of that and climb over, then figure out what to do from there.

So Shawn climbed down, faster and faster. Just as he was about to reach the second floor railing, the banner ripped completely, sending Shawn falling. At the very last second, Shawn managed to grab hold of the railing. The banner then flew down the various stories of the museum, beautifully landing on the first group of officers sent up the stairs. That gave Shawn maybe ten seconds head start. With that new surge of hope, Shawn climbed over the railing quickly. He turned to run towards the stairs, and there he was greeted with a familiar face and a gun trained on him.

Of course, of all people, of all officers in the entire Santa Barbara Police Department, it had to be him.

"Put your hands up and go on your knees," Buzz McNabb ordered fiercely. Shawn reluctantly complied, his eyes focused on the gun. "Put your hands behind your head," Buzz ordered. Shawn did as told. Buzz then walked towards Shawn, the gun trained on him until he was face to face. Buzz put away his gun and grabbed hold of Shawn's wrist. With his other hand, Buzz reached for his handcuffs, and Shawn knew exactly what to do.

"Sorry," Shawn said, using a deep, almost Batman-like voice.

"What?"

Shawn twisted the wrist Buzz had grabbed hold of. With his other hand, he grabbed Buzz's gun and hit him on the head with it. Shawn chucked the gun over the balcony before grabbing the set of handcuffs still in the officer's hand. He then cuffed Buzz to the railing. Shawn then jumped to his feet, ready to take off in any direction. The police and security guards were both making their way towards the second floor, each literally a couple steps away from it. So Shawn took off running.

He ran the perimeter of the second floor before he found his potential escape. A full length window, exactly like the one on the third floor. There would be a fire escape on the other side. If Shawn could break the window again, he could make it out. With the police hot on his trail, though, how was he ever going to manage that? Then the idea struck him. He'd _jump_ out!

Shawn ran full speed towards the window. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his last piece of porcelain. When he was close enough to the window, he threw the porcelain at it as hard as he could. The glass went shattering down, creating the perfect exit for him. Shawn continued to run forward to the broken window. He ran through the shards of glass and finally jumped through it. He grabbed hold of the fire escape railings and quickly pulled himself up and over it.

"That is, by far, the coolest thing I've ever done," Shawn muttered to himself as he started running down the fire escape steps.

He looked back for only a second to see that the police had stopped at the open window. Some were turning back, already heading for the stairs. No doubt there were still police officers and police cars stationed on the main road, so that route was out of the question. Shawn would have to resort to taking alleyways and footpaths until he reached his bike. Good thing he had an eidetic memory and had decided to look at city maps before getting into this mess.

He was getting away with this.

* * *

Less than half an hour later, Shawn was back home. It was four o'clock, Juliet would be waking up in three hours. That was plenty of time to clean up his mess. First thing's first, Shawn took off the cloth hiding his license plate. He then pulled out a garbage bag from his bike's storage. He shoved the cloth, his gloves and his ski mask in it. Shawn pulled out the diamonds and hammer and place it on his bike for now. Next, Shawn started to strip off his clothes. First his hoodie, then his trousers, and even his shoes and socks. They had video surveillance in the museum, they no doubt knew what he was wearing. He threw all of it in to the bag. He then tied it in a knot and threw the bag into the bin outside. Shawn grabbed his keys, diamonds and hammer and headed inside.

The whole house was still dark, so he found it safe to assume Juliet was still asleep. Shawn quietly locked the door behind him and walked into the bathroom. Shawn looked at his reflection in the mirror to inspect that damage. To his dismay, he found many cuts and bruises. He'd just have to hope no one would notice and ask how he got them. Shawn then moved towards the toilet. He pulled out the bag of diamonds and the hammer and stored it behind it in the gap. This was just a temporary hiding place. Tomorrow, he'd take it to a safe he had set up in the Psych office. For now, he had to stick to his alibi.

Shawn snuck back into his room, happy to see Juliet still curled up on her side of the bed, just as he had left her. He stealthily walked towards the bed and gently eased himself back in bed. He scooted closer to Juliet and put an arm around her.

Juliet started to stir in her sleep, feeling the warmth of Shawn around her.

"Shawn?" she murmured, still clearly half asleep.

"Hey, Jules," Shawn said quietly, hoping to sound as tired as she did.

"Where were you?" Shawn stiffened.

"I was… just getting a drink, Jules," Shawn lied smoothly.

"Okay," Juliet murmured and scooted closer to her boyfriend. Shawn let out a breath of relief. "You okay?" she asked, having heard the sigh.

"Yeah, I'm good," Shawn said, a smile starting to form. "Everything's just good."


	2. The Crime Scene

**Hello lovelys! **

**Thanks for all the reviews and follows, it really means a lot. I'll try to update this weekly, seeing as I don't have Uni at the moment. Summer has begun!**

**Please review! Would love to hear what you think!**

* * *

Five Days Ago

The most annoying sound Shawn had ever heard sounded throughout the room. He looked up and saw Juliet climbing out of bed and walking to her phone. Shawn looked at the time and groaned. He had only gotten two hours of sleep. He turned over, trying to get some more sleep. Just as he was starting to doze off, Juliet came back into the room, turning on the light. Shawn pulled the blanket over his head, trying to ignore the wake up call.

"Shawn, that was the chief," Juliet explained walking towards her closet. "She wants us both down there as soon as possible." She easily stepped out of her pyjama bottoms and reached for her trousers.

"No," Shawn said simply, curling up into a ball under the covers. Juliet smiled slightly at her boyfriend. He was always grumpy when he first woke up.

"Come on, Shawn," Juliet encouraged. She stripped off her pyjama top just as Shawn had emerged from the covers. Whatever retort he had planned immediately died on his lips. Juliet, noticing the silence, turned to face her boyfriend. When she saw him staring, she could help but laugh. She reached into the closet, pulled out one of Shawn's shirts and jeans and threw it at him. "Get dressed," Juliet ordered, a smile still on her face.

"But I don't wanna," Shawn complained. Juliet shot him a look and Shawn was immediately out of the bed. "Alright, alright. I'm moving," Shawn said, stripping off his top and grabbing the one Juliet threw at him. Juliet smiled in approval and pulled on her shirt. She grabbed her blazer and reached into Shawn's section of the closet. She frowned and reached around for a moment, before realising that the item of clothing she was looking for was not there.

"Shawn, do you know what happened to your hoodie?" she asked.

"Which one?" a half dressed Shawn asked while pulling on his jeans.

"The black one. You know, the one your dad got you for your birthday?"

Shawn froze. He was really hoping it would take longer for her to notice it was gone. "Um… it didn't fit," Shawn lied quickly.

Juliet arched an eyebrow at Shawn. "Your father got you the wrong sized hoodie?"

"Yeah."

"That doesn't sound like him."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you," Shawn said, starting to get a bit agitated. He didn't like lying to Juliet, especially not since she found out about his little secret. Shawn looked up at Juliet to see her staring at him slightly worried. Shawn cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. "Sweetie, don't we have to be at the station soon? Just grab me any old jacket and then we'll go."

Juliet narrowed her eyes at him, but complied. She pulled out one of his brown jackets and tossed it at him. Then, together they made their way to the precinct.

* * *

They arrived at the station less than twenty minutes later, only just beating the Blueberry. Gus got out of his car and joined the two of them. Still, Carlton was not pleased, declaring that they were very late. Juliet rolled her eyes and moved on. Upon seeing the psychic arrive, Carlton had practically begged the chief to send him home. Instead, the chief insisted that she needed Shawn. So with a smirk on his face, Shawn followed the chief into the briefing room.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," the chief said. "But this is an urgent matter. Around three hours ago, there was a break in at the Museum of National History."

Shawn stiffened and his eyes widened. Was he seriously getting called in to consult on his own crime?

"Someone tipped off the curator about the theft, and he demanded that every officer available be put on the case as soon as possible," the chief continued. "The Lost Diamonds were taken, and they are valued at roughly five million dollars."

Shawn's jaw dropped. _Five million dollars?!_

"The burglar entered through the East window on the third floor, suggesting that he used the fire escape on the neighbouring building. One minute later, the diamonds were in his hands. Five minutes after that, he exited through the East window on the second floor, before taking off on foot, which is where we lost him. None of the security guards got a proper look at him. All they know is that he was wearing all black and that he wasn't armed."

"Wasn't armed?" Gus asked. "Someone steals a five million dollar article from a museum and they don't come armed?"

"He did obtain a gun at one point," Carlton said, almost angrily. He turned to look at Buzz McNabb, who was also at the briefing. "But he didn't use it. Luckily for a certain officer." Buzz looked down, embarrassed.

"Carlton," Juliet apprehended. She wasn't there and she didn't know what happened, but she could guess from the way Carlton looked at the officer. The burglar must have taken Buzz's gun, but for some reason, didn't use it.

"No, O'Hara, he messed up. Any other burglar would have shot him without a second thought. All this guy did was hit him on the head. McNabb should be thanking his lucky stars that he's not dying in a hospital room!"

"Woah, Carlton," Shawn interrupted. He felt incredibly guilty that he was the reason Buzz was getting in trouble. And speaking as the burglar in question, he would never in his worst nightmare dream of shooting anyone. "Let's calm down, alright?" everyone stared at Shawn. Was he seriously talking back to Carlton Lassiter when he was in this state? "We're talking about a robbery here, alright? The guy is nothing more than a thief. Last time I checked, thieves steal things. They don't kill people."

"Shut it, Spencer," Carlton said irritably. "You of all people should know just how many murders are because of a robbery gone bad. Someone sees them, someone catches the thief, and they die. When dealing with something that's worth over five million dollars, the thief will be ready to kill."

"Well, obviously this guy wasn't!" Shawn snapped. Everyone stared in shock at him, and Shawn shut his mouth quickly.

"What in the hell makes you say that?" Carlton asked angrily.

"He wasn't armed," Shawn said softly and slowly. "Last I checked, it's hard to be ready to kill someone without a weapon."

The briefing room was silent. Shawn had a point

"So," Juliet started. "If he didn't have the intention of killing anyone –"

"O'Hara," Carlton interrupted.

"If he didn't have the intention of killing anyone," Juliet repeated, glaring at her partner. "Why would he go on one of these missions? From the sounds of it, this guy is not violent. I mean, he had Buzz's gun. And what did he do with it?" She genuinely asked.

"He threw it over the balcony," Buzz answered quietly.

"See?!" Juliet exclaimed, gesturing at Buzz. "This guy is not a violent guy! An officer points a gun at him, and what does he do? He didn't attack, instead, he subdued him and got rid of their weapon. That's it. No injury, no surgery needed. It happened three hours ago, and Buzz is well enough to be sitting right here with us. Stealing something worth this much almost always ends with some casualty. So why did he choose this item?"

Everyone thought about it, trying to find a reason.

"Maybe he was forced to," Gus suggested. Shawn stared at his friend. How did he do that? How did he get it right on the first go? "I mean, think about," Gus continued. "This guy gets in and out of the museum with the diamonds in under ten minutes. Clearly this guy is smart. Very smart, maybe a genius. But, he does not have that mean streak, that violent behaviour, to actually commit a crime. At least not voluntarily."

"So you think someone threatened him?" Juliet asked. Gus nodded his head.

"While this is a great theory," The Chief started, trying to bring the discussion back to a more pressing issue, "it doesn't bring us any closer to catching this bastard."

Shawn involuntarily flinched. Sure, officers and detectives always called the criminals 'bastards' or 'son of a bitch' or something along those lines. They did it all the time, and Shawn knew that. Only this time, the chief was referring to him.

"Alright, so, where did he go after he climbed down the fire escape?" Carlton asked. "Did he have a car waiting , or some other form of transport?" Everyone looked at Buzz.

"He, well… he just ran," Buzz answered.

"You're telling me this criminal got away by _running_?" Carlton asked.

"Well, we were expecting him to turn onto the main road," Buzz explained. "That was where most of the officers were stationed. Instead, he took back roads and alleyways."

"Which suggests he knows the city well," Juliet commented. "Very well."

"He probably grew up in Santa Barbara then," Carlton added.

"Now that's something helpful," the Chief said. "I've got the video surveillance tapes set up in the viewing room. You can take a look at that now and get an idea of what we're dealing with. I've sent McNabb's gun and handcuffs to the lab to get them checked for prints. The case files are on your desks. So get to it! I want this son of a bitch caught sooner, rather than later."

Shawn involuntarily flinched again. He quickly looked around hoping no one noticed. He then followed Gus to one of the desks.

Juliet noticed everything. Every flinch, every nervous tick, she even noticed that it wasn't Shawn who grabbed the case file, it was Gus. Shawn always tried to snatch it away before Gus could look at it. What was going on with him?

* * *

All the officers, including Shawn and Gus, had somehow stayed at the station for a whole day and night. They insisted on pulling an all-nighter, despite all of Shawn's protests. He was seriously sleep deprived from the night before, and now he wasn't going to get any sleep this night. He had managed, for maybe two hours, to fall asleep at one of the desks, but that wasn't nearly enough.

Shawn had on many times tried to get out of the station. Every time he tried, however, someone would get in his way and force him to stay. Whether it be Gus, who left to do his routes but refused to give him a ride home, or Juliet, who refused to lend him her car without a valid reason, or even Carlton, who said he slivered his way into this case, he wasn't going to sliver out. He desperately needed to get back to the house. He needed to get the diamonds, he needed to put them in a safer place. He couldn't just leave them behind the toilet!

One good thing about staying at the station, though, was that Shawn was able to keep up with his own case. So far, they clarified the video surveillance of the museum, but still no ID was made. They got results back from the lab, and unfortunately – or, fortunately, for Shawn – there were no prints. Now all of them were heading to the crime scene to see what they could make out. They were hoping for some DNA left at the entrance or exit points. They were hoping for anything to give them a lead.

Once at the crime scene, it didn't take the detectives long to find the spark plug fragments on the floor mixed with the glass. Juliet stared at it for a while. She heard about that before, that spark plug fragments could easily break windows. Well, if this wasn't proof of that theory, nothing was. But there was more to it than that, something that truly terrified Juliet. Hadn't Shawn borrowed his father's spark plug three days ago? And didn't Shawn return it broken?

That, paired with the missing black hoodie – that just happened to look _exactly_ like the one in the museum surveillance videos – started to make Juliet doubt her boyfriend. And, now that she thought about it, didn't Shawn randomly go missing the night before? Sure, he could have easily gone to get a drink or have gone to the bathroom… but isn't it possible that he went out instead? And to top it all off, Shawn really wasn't investing much in the case. Juliet wasn't the only person to notice that, Carlton had made a comment about it too. Sure, he seemed glad that psychic wasn't messing around with his case, but even he was starting to get annoyed with Shawn. Most of the time, all Shawn ever did was think of excuses to go home.

The diamonds.

If Shawn was the one to do it, that would have to mean that he got back very late. He might have gone straight to the house to avoid looking suspicious. So he must have stashed the diamonds in the house. He didn't expect to be called in on the case, and he certainly didn't expect the case to take up so much of his time. That was why Shawn was trying to think of any and every excuse to get home! To get the diamonds back!

"O'Hara? Have you been listening to a word I said?" Carlton snapped at last.

Juliet looked up at her partner, snapped out of her epiphany. She blinked a couple times, before apologising, "Sorry, Carlton," She said. "I think I may be getting a bit… I don't know, overworked."

Carlton raised an eyebrow at her. Juliet _never_ got overworked. And if she ever did, she would never admit it. "O'Hara?" Carlton questioned.

"Look, I think I need a shower, just to clear my head," Juliet decided at last.

"We're in the middle of a crime scene," Carlton said, almost shocked at his partner.

"I know," Juliet said. "There are lots of other officers and detectives here though. You don't need me here to process the scene with you, they can help. I want to go home, have a shower, then I'll come right back."

Carlton stared at Juliet for a while. She did look stressed, he'd give her that. Plus the fact that she actually _admitted_ to being stressed, that worried the head detective as well. And she did have a point, she wasn't _entirely_ need at the crime scene. Maybe it would be best for all of them if she did go home for a bit, just to clear her head. So Carlton let out a sigh and said, "Fine. Okay, O'Hara. Go home, clear your head, then come back."

"Thank you," Juliet said, a sense of relief going over her. She started to walk towards her car when she saw a glimpse of Shawn anxiously pacing around the crime scene. She hated to snoop around her boyfriend, but it needed to be done. And he needed to be out of the way. Juliet turned back towards her partner. "Oh, and Carlton?" her partner turned around. "Can you um… just keep Shawn away from the house."

Carlton raised an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, with a grin on his face and hope in his eyes.

"No," Juliet retorted immediately, even though she didn't fully know herself. "I'm just worried that he'll get back, I'll be in the shower, and then – "

"Oh, Sweet Lady Justice, O'Hara, I don't want that picture in my head!" Carlton exclaimed turning away from his partner. Juliet couldn't help the grin from spreading on her face. "Just go, I'll keep an eye on him."

Juliet nodded and walked to her car. By the end of the day, she would have the answers she needed.

* * *

Juliet had searched the entire house. As soon as the detective walked through her doors, she threw her bag on the floor, kicked the doors closed and began her search. The living room was a mess. There were cushions on the floor, cabinets opened and every drawer was emptied. The kitchen was somehow even worse. Every cupboard was opened and every jar, cup or vase was tipped upside down. The bedroom was a disaster. Their wardrobe was destroyed, the bed was stripped, and there were clothes thrown all over the floor.

Her search had taken her four hours, and nothing. No diamonds. A smile started to form on her face. Of _course_ Shawn didn't steal the diamonds. That's just ridiculous. He would never do something like that. Juliet had gotten all worked up for nothing. So, she decided to finally have her shower and go back to work, before Carlton finally blew up. She'd clean up the mess some other time.

Juliet stepped into the shower and turned on the hot water. She let the almost scalding water pour down her back and calmly leaned her head back, hoping the temperature would calm her down and clear her mind. Half an hour later, she deemed her shower finished. She turned off the water and reached for her bathrobe. She walked over to the sink and mirror to brush her teeth. As she approached the mirror, she noticed it. There was something behind the toilet. Hidden in plain sight, was a small bag.

The detective turned around quickly and faced the almost offending item. She approached it with caution, fearing the worst. She hesitantly reached a hand out and grabbed the bag. Slowly and carefully, Juliet finally dared to open it. When she did, she could have cried. Diamonds. The diamonds were in her house. They were in her _bathroom_. Dear God, she was _holding_ them right now! They were in her _hands_!

Shawn broke in to the museum. Shawn pistol whipped Buzz. _Shawn stole the diamonds_! Juliet wasn't sure if she was about to cry or be sick.

She walked out of the bathroom, diamonds still clenched tightly in her hand. She walked towards the bedroom and sat down on the edge. Before she even realised what she was doing, she fell back onto the bed, curled up into a ball, and cried. It didn't take long for her to finally fall asleep.

* * *

There was a very rude awakening for the detective the next day. Her phone started to ring loudly and obnoxiously. Juliet sat up from the bed and looked for a clock. It was 5 o'clock in the morning. Juliet quickly sprung up out of bed and grabbed her phone. She quickly answered the call and put it to her ear before running back to her room.

"Carlton, I am _so_ sorry," Juliet rambled quickly. She grabbed a pair of underwear and a bra from her pile of clothes that she threw on the floor before. She held the phone between her cheek and her shoulder while she started to dress. "I never meant to spend the night, I guess I just didn't realise how tired I was," she explained quickly.

'O'Hara, that's fine,' Carlton said on the other end. 'Now – '

"I'm just going to change quickly and I'll head out," Juliet continued, while she grabbed a shirt from the floor, ignoring her partner. "I won't be more than ten minutes."

'O'Hara, it's fine,' Carlton tried again. 'You looked like you could have used the rest anyways. Nothing happened here yet, we're still waiting for forensics to process the scene.'

"Still, I should be there," Juliet grabbed a pair of trousers and started to pull them on. "Why didn't you call me earlier?"

'Because I didn't need to,' Carlton replied.

Juliet paused. She stared at the diamonds still on the bed. She picked up her phone with her hand now and paid more attention to the call, afraid for the worst. "But now you do?"

'Yes.'

Juliet sat back down on the bed. "What happened?" she asked.

Carlton hesitated before answering, 'Shawn's been acting weird… even by his standards.'

"How so?"

'When he found out you went home, he went crazy. I swear, it took every ounce of energy to keep him still. You owe me big time.'

"Where is he now?" Juliet asked.

'Well, that's why I'm calling,' Carlton explained. 'He's not in the station anymore. My guess is that he went back to your place. I thought I'd give you a heads up.'

Juliet could feel her heart race. Shawn was coming home to pick up the diamonds. She was going to have to confront him. She needed to find out the truth.

"Thanks, Carlton," Juliet said. She then heard the front door unlock. "I'll call you back later," Juliet said quickly into the phone before hanging up. She quickly grabbed her holster and strapped it around her waist, then picked up her gun and shoving it in her holster. Odds are, she wouldn't have to use it, but Shawn was starting to scare her. She didn't know how far he'd go for those diamonds. Juliet picked up the bag and hid behind the door of their bedroom.

Juliet listened as Shawn entered the house. Once the door open, she could hear two footsteps as he entered the house, and then he paused, no doubt taking in the mess in the living room. She heard him curse out loud before his heavy footsteps went thundering for the bathroom. Juliet slowly crept out of her hiding place and quietly crept to the bathroom door to get a better look. Shawn was crouched on the floor searching behind the toilet. He slammed his hand on the toilet in pure rage when he couldn't find his diamonds.

"Shit!" Shawn yelled out loud. "Fucking shitting FUCK!" Now Juliet was really scared. Shawn hardly _ever_ swore. Juliet took in a deep breath. It was confrontation time.

Juliet stepped out of hiding and in the bathroom doorway. She held the diamonds in her hand and said, "Looking for something?"

Shawn quickly spun around to see his girlfriend holding his bag of diamonds in her hands. That was the first thing he noticed. The second, was the gun around her waist. She _never_ carried her gun in the house.

"Jules…" Shawn said softly.

"You have a _lot_ of explaining to do, Shawn Spencer," Juliet said icily.

"I… I can't, Jules," Shawn said.

Juliet glared at her boyfriend. She nodded once and then tucked the diamonds in her pocket. "I'm going to the chief," she said quickly and started for the front door.

"No, Jules!" Shawn ran after her grabbing her hand and pulling her back. Juliet spun around to face Shawn, and in one fluid motion, she slapped him across the face.

"I have had _enough _of your lies!" she yelled at him. "First, you're not actually psychic. And now, you're a _thief_?! What else are you hiding from me?! Is there some _meth lab_ you have that I don't know about?!"

"It's not like that, I'm not a thief!" Shawn let go of her hand, still in shock from the slap.

"Oh, right, not a thief. You just happened to steal five million dollars' worth of diamonds!" Juliet turned for the door again, and Shawn grabbed her arm once more.

"Please, Jules, I didn't have a choice!" Shawn said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Juliet asked. Shawn just stared at her apologetically. "Shawn, you explain everything to me. Right now. You explain everything to me or I am walking out that door and I am informing the chief. About _everything_."

Shawn gulped. That included his little lie that he told the entirety of Santa Barbara.

"Okay… okay, I'll tell you everything," he whispered. Juliet crossed her arms, impatiently waiting. Shawn sighed heavily, and he explained, "It's Mauricio. He's… he's threatening me. If I don't get him these diamonds by tomorrow… I'm done for – "

* * *

Present Day

"Woah, woah, woah," Carlton interrupted his story.

"What?" Shawn asked, confused.

"There is no _way_ that that is the beginning of the story!" Carlton yelled.

"Why not?!"

"Why not?" Carlton repeated incredulously. "Who the hell is Mauricio?!"

"Mauricio Pascale," Juliet answered for Shawn.

"From the bank robbery case?" Carlton asked. Both Juliet and Shawn nodded in confirmation. "What the hell does _that_ have to do with the diamonds?!" Carlton slammed he hand on the table. "_Dammit_, Spencer, I told you to start from the beginning!"

"And I said to clarify which beginning to start from!" Shawn retaliated. He turned towards his girlfriend. "You heard me, Jules, right? You heard me ask which beginning to start from"

"Yes, Shawn, I heard you – " Juliet answered.

"O'Hara!"

"Well, Carlton, in his defence, he _did_ ask you where to start. You're the one who told him to start with the diamonds."

Carlton groaned and stared up at the ceiling. "Why me?" he wondered out loud. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "Right," he grumbled. "Let's try this again. Spencer, just tell me what happened, and start from the beginning this time." Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but Carlton quickly cut him off. "Mauricio!" Carlton said quickly. "and the bank robbery. Tell me how that ties in to this never ending story and tell me about his threats."


	3. The Bank Robbery

**Hello lovelys! Sorry it's a bit late, but I was busy packing up my room.**

**A couple people saying this is kind of like 'The Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable', and you know, I see it. But it's one of my favourite episodes, so I'll take it.**

**Ok, now there is something I want to do. I've done a couple times before and it worked well, so please in reviews or PM tell me which PsychFic to write next. I'm debating between: 'The (Un)Usual Suspect' and 'A Smile Doesn't Hold up in Court' (see my profile for a little summery)**

**Please review!**

* * *

12 Days Ago

Shawn sat in the passenger seat of the Blueberry, Gus was driving both of them to their new bank. It had been five years since Gus was caught up in the bank robbery, but ever since that day, the man was terrified. Shawn never talked to him about it, he figured Gus would talk to him if he wanted to, but that didn't mean he didn't notice. Gus had changed banks immediately, he refused to walk by a bank and most importantly, he refused to step foot in one. If he needed to make a deposit, he would do it by computer or on a machine or he'd get someone else to do it for him. So when Gus said that he was going to the bank, Shawn knew he needed to be there for his best friend.

The Blueberry came to a stop in the parking lot outside. Both Shawn and Gus took off their seatbelts, but neither of them made a move for the door. Shawn was waiting for Gus to do it, ready to accompany him if needed. But Gus just sat there, staring at the building in front of him. Shawn debated whether to tell his friend to just suck it up or to forget about it. Having a heart to heart with his friend wasn't really an option. Spencers didn't talk about feelings. So instead, Shawn opted for the 'suck it up' route.

"You know, Gus," Shawn started. "This is the part when you open your car door and get out."

Gus glared at Shawn, not liking to seem like a wimp. "So why aren't you doing it, then?" he asked. Shawn raised an eyebrow, what was happening here?

"What do you mean?"

"The cheque isn't going to deposit itself, Shawn," Gus said.

"Wait… you mean,.. me? Why do _I_ have to go in?"

"Why does it always have to be me?"

"Dude, this is getting out of hand. What do you think will happen if you step inside?"

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed, shocked by his forwardness.

"Look, man, all I'm saying is that bank robberies are insanely rare. Do you know how unlucky you must be to be caught up in _two_ bank robberies with in the span of five years?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Shawn, we're not exactly the luckiest people in the world."

"Yeah, but there's unlucky, like us, and then there's 'The world is out to get me' unlucky."

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Gus said, and turned his head away from the bank building and stared out his window. Shawn stared at his friend for a moment longer, before sighing in defeat.

"Alright, fine," Shawn said, grabbing the cheque in question. "I'll go, but if I get caught up in a bank robbery, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed. "Don't even joke about that! Do you have any idea – "

Shawn shut the door of the car on Gus mid rant, a smirk on his face. He loved freaking Gus out, it was one of his top five favourite pass times. In all honesty, Shawn wasn't actually upset with Gus for not making it in. Taking his car and driving up to the bank was in itself a big step for the pharmaceutical salesman, and Shawn was proud. Maybe next time Gus would actually be able to make it in, and Shawn would patiently wait for that day.

He walked in to the small local bank and made his way to the unreasonably long line. Shawn hated lines. A group of people, bunched together waiting to be assisted by somebody, all of them impatient as hell, antisocial and hot-headed. Shawn joined the back of the line and sighed in annoyance. When he agreed to come with Gus, he didn't fully realise that it meant he would have to stand in line for ages.

To pass time, Shawn started to analyse everyone in the bank. Though he often hated his father for making him this way, at times it truly came in handy. Granted, majority of his job relied on this ability of his, but on an everyday basis it wasn't very necessary.

Bank teller number one, her blazer was wrinkled – unironed – and her hair was tied up tightly – probably to hide the fact that it hadn't been washed – and though it was very well hidden, her white shirt underneath had a small pit stain – meaning she wore the blazer to hide it. she was definitely wearing the same clothes as yesterday, meaning she got lucky. Oh, but what's this? A wedding ring. What a naughty girl, she's been cheating on her husband. If she had slept with her husband last night, she would have been able to change her clothes. Poor guy.

Bank teller number two, God, that smile on his face just automatically made Shawn hate him. He had gelled up hair, almost as good as Shawn's – only almost. And he kept glancing at bank teller number one. Oh, that's him. Bank teller number one cheated on her husband with _him? _Oh, she can do better. Her husband _deserves_ better than to be cheated on with him. Well, actually, her husband deserved better than to be cheated on at all.

Bank teller number three… where is she? Shawn quickly scanned the small bank for the petite figure of the bank teller. He found her at last after another second of searching. She was leading a man into the back. He probably needed a safety deposit box, or something. Shawn was prepared to think nothing of it. He was prepared to drop the whole thing and go on with his analysis. But then she turned her head. She stared at the man that she was leading into the back, and Shawn knew he couldn't drop it. The poor woman looked absolutely terrified.

"Ex_cuse_ me!" Shawn was snapped out of his stare by the angry voice of the woman behind him. He looked down at the woman who was yelling at him. She was a short woman, angry little woman, a mother, most like a recent mother, judging by the baby weight she still proudly held. "Are you in line or not?" the woman asked.

Shawn blinked twice at the woman, before glancing at the three foot space in front of him. This is why Shawn hated lines, people like angry-little-recent-mother here. "No, sorry," Shawn muttered, and moved out of the line. The mother raised an eyebrow at him, and her gaze followed him as he headed towards bank teller number three and the mystery man. When he finally caught up with them, they were both nearly through the door leading to the back room.

"Excuse me, Miss," Shawn said quickly, before they went through. Bank teller number three turned to face Shawn, but the mystery man kept his back to Shawn. "Are you alright?" Shawn asked.

"She's fine," the man answered. Shawn was stunned for a second. He knew that voice, he could recognise that voice anywhere. It couldn't be, and yet, he knew it was. What was that Gus had said earlier about being unlucky? For a second, Shawn debated just leaving her to her own devices out of fear. But no, he knew he couldn't.

"Look, man, it's great that you think that, but I wasn't asking you," Shawn said quietly. He turned his gaze to the bank teller, "Ma'am, are you okay?"

The bank teller glanced quickly at the mystery man, the fear never leaving her eyes, before she looked back at Shawn and squeaked out, "Yes, I'm fine."

"See?" the man said in annoyance. "She's fine."

"Yeah, for some reason, I don't believe that," Shawn said.

The man groaned and turned to face the psychic. When Shawn saw the man's face, all doubt he might have had about the man's identity was gone. Shawn knew exactly who he was, and it scared him to death. Mauricio Pascale. The man who had nearly killed him. Twice.

And there, in Mauricio's eyes, was something that somehow terrified Shawn even more than he already was. Because it is one thing to see Mauricio again, he could deal with that. He could deal with knowing Mauricio was in Santa Barbara. But having Mauricio know that _he_ was in Santa Barbara was completely different. But there it was, in Mauricio's eyes, recognition. Mauricio recognised Shawn.

"Trey?" Mauricio asked. Shawn stiffened. He hadn't been called that in years, and that stooped name brought back so many unwanted memories.

"I think you have me confused with someone," Shawn said quietly.

Mauricio absentmindedly turned even more to face Shawn. As he did, he revealed the gun he was holding, the gun that he had hidden so well, the gun that was probably the cause for bank teller number three's fear. Shawn too zeroed in on the gun, and in all his life, he didn't think his heart had ever beat so fast. If Mauricio wanted to, Shawn could be dead within a second. And last Shawn checked, Mauricio _definitely_ wanted him dea –

"Oh my _God_!" a woman's scream interrupted his thoughts. Everyone turned to face angry-little-recent-mother in the line, who was staring right at them, her hand pointing to Mauricio. "_He's got a gun!_" she screamed.

Everything happened so quickly after that. There were a lot of screams in the bank, a lot of people running. Bank tellers one and two probably pushed their panic button, sending police their way. The Security guards ran towards the man in question. Mauricio cussed before taking off in a sprint. First, he had the task of dodging the security, which he had somehow managed to do with ease. Then, he burst through the exit and took off. The bank was put on lockdown, and no one was allowed to leave or come in, not until the police came.

"Thank you," Shawn heard a small voice say. He turned towards bank teller number three, who was standing small, her arms cross across her chest, almost as if she was physically holding herself together.

"Don't mention it," Shawn said, his voice still small. "What the hell did he want, anyways.?"

Bank teller three stared up at him, and Shawn knew this little incident would scar her for life. "Diamonds," she said at last. "He was after diamonds."

* * *

The police had arrived not even a full minute after Mauricio had made his escape. They took everyone who was in the bank at the time into the station for interviews. They needed to question everyone on what they saw, to see if there were any key features to go on. They knew walking into this process that they wouldn't get much results. It's not like a typical person could take in their entire surrounding in a second. It's not like they knew Mauricio was going to try to rob them.

Just as Juliet and Carlton suspected, most of the clients at the bank didn't even notice Mauricio was there until the woman screamed about the gun. The mother could only say what the man looked like from the back. She gave a very unhelpful description, a tall well-toned man with brown hair. Bank teller one and two hardly remembered the man approaching the bench in the first place, and couldn't reveal much more about Mauricio. Bank teller three was clearly too traumatised to remember anything clearly. She kept changing the details of the man, first stating he had black hair and blue eyes, then stating he had brown hair and brown eyes. At one point, she even claimed that the man had blonde hair, which was the only detail they knew about their suspect.

They weren't getting anywhere, until bank teller three told them about Trey. How a man went to help her when he noticed that she was afraid. She told them about how they both immediately recognised each other, and how the robber greeted the man by name.

So Juliet and Carlton searched through all their witnesses, trying to find Trey, but there was no one by that name there. It wasn't until the mother pointed out Shawn and said that he was the one that approached the robber that they finally were starting to get somewhere. So they put their psychic into an interrogation room, hoping to get answers.

Juliet and Carlton agreed that Juliet would talk to Shawn alone, fairly thinking that Shawn would be more open and slightly more serious with his girlfriend rather than the head detective. So as Juliet walked into Shawn's interrogation room, Carlton went to talk to bank teller three one more time, hoping to get more answers.

Juliet walked into the interrogation room and made her way to the table with Shawn. She smiled at her boyfriend, almost expecting him to jump up on the table and start solving the mystery. Instead, he stayed still in his seat and attempted a smile which never reached his eyes. And that worried Juliet to no end. Shawn was never like this.

"You okay?" Juliet asked immediately.

"Yeah. Fine. Never better. Why?" Shawn responded almost too quickly. Juliet narrowed her eyes at him.

"Okay," she said, dropping the issue for now. She just needed him to cooperate for now. She had all the time in the world to question him about his behaviour after. For now, they had a potential bank robbery to deal with. "Shawn, why don't you just tell me everything you can about the bank."

"I don't know what you mean. I… what could I know about this?"

"Shawn, please don't act like you don't know anything," Juliet said, starting to get annoyed. "Anna told us that the robber referred to you as Trey."

Shawn's flinch did not go unnoticed by Juliet. "Well, clearly he was mistaken," Shawn said quietly.

"Maybe," Juliet said, staring at Shawn suspiciously. "or maybe there's something you're not telling me."

"I don't know what you're talking about – "

"Shawn, you are a _brilliant_ liar," Juliet cut him off quickly. "You have lied to me and the entire police department for seven whole _years_. The fact that you're doing such an appalling job at it now worries me. A lot."

Shawn opened his mouth, probably to deny whatever she might say, but he closed his mouth soon after. That was when both of them realised just how panicked he really was. The psychic could lie through his teeth in any and every situation. He could lie so convincingly that even the people who knew the truth would have doubts. So why is it that now, all of a sudden, he couldn't even _attempt_ a lie. What could be spooking him so much that he was lying so poorly?

"What happened?" Juliet asked.

"Jules… I – "

"No, something happened. You know something, I know you do. Please tell me." She could see it in his eyes, he was truly debating telling her. At least there was that, he wanted to help, but something was holding him back. "Shawn?" Juliet tried again.

"If I give you a name," Shawn said in a whisper, almost as if he were afraid someone would be listening in, "would that be enough to put him away?"

Juliet stared at her boyfriend for a moment longer, shocked by the question. "With a name, we could bring him in for questioning, get Anna to ID him as the man from the bank – "

"Would that be enough?" Shawn cut her off, a desperate tone to his voice.

"Yes," Juliet lied. And Shawn knew it, deep down, he knew she was lying. "Shawn, if you're in any danger, you know we can help you, right?"

Shawn scoffed and shook his head, muttering, "you can't," under his breath so quietly Juliet wasn't even sure she heard him correctly. She was about to ask what he was talking about, when suddenly he spoke up again. "Mauricio," Shawn stated. "His name is Mauricio Pascale, according to the bank teller, he was after diamonds."

"Diamonds?" Juliet asked. Something clicked in her head. "The Lost Diamonds?"

"The what?"

"The Lost Diamonds," she repeated. Upon Shawn's blank expression, Juliet had to roll her eyes. "They've been advertising it for weeks, Shawn. They're moving the Lost Diamonds to a local Santa Barbara museum. They've been keeping it all very secret, but they want to keep everything local. I'll check with the manager, see if that's what he's after. In the mean time I'll get Carlton to bring in Mauricio for questioning." Juliet got up, a new plan forming in her head. She opened the door and started to walk out. Before Shawn could even let out a sigh, Juliet poked her head back in. "Oh, and Shawn, if you think we're done talking, you are horribly mistaken." And with that, she walked away.

* * *

It had been two days since the bank robbery. Mauricio had come in willingly at first, knowing that they didn't have much on him. He had planned his robbery very well, making sure his face was never in view of the cameras. Add to that the fact that no one paid attention to him as he made his way through the bank and the fact that the bank teller – apparently called Anna – was so traumatised she couldn't even pin down a hair colour, Mauricio knew he'd be out soon enough. The only person who could put him away was Trey, but he knew he wouldn't utter a word. How the police had even identified him, he wasn't sure. But he knew that it wouldn't be long before he was released.

Juliet had tried everything that she could to keep Mauricio in a holding cell. She and Carlton had tried to get the witnesses to confirm the man's ID, but the most they could get was, "Yeah, I guess he kinda looks like the guy from the bank". Anna could give a positive ID, but at that moment , her credibility was already down. The only reason they were able to keep Mauricio for the maximum two days was because of Shawn. Unfortunately, Mauricio knew his rights. One witness' testimony was circumstantial at best. They couldn't keep him any longer.

Shawn just happened to be in the station on the day he was released. For the whole two days, Shawn had avoided Juliet and the entire police department, afraid that they would ask more questions about how he knew Mauricio. The only reason he was at the station now was because Gus kept insisting he get their pay check from their last case. As he walked into the station, he saw Juliet walking away from the holding cells, Carlton by her side, both of them extremely annoyed.

"Woah, Jules," Shawn said, approaching his girlfriend and the head detective. "What's up?"

"Mauricio is getting released," Carlton muttered angrily, marching directly to the chief's office. Shawn froze where he stood. It felt as if his heart just stopped beating. This couldn't be happening. It _couldn't_. He slowly turned to face Juliet, his absolutely terrified expression fixed on his face.

Juliet pursed her lips and stared at Shawn apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Shawn," she said quickly. "We tried to keep him in, but the evidence we had was circumstantial. Unless we get some hard evidence, Mauricio walks."

"You said you had enough," Shawn said dangerously low. "You said you could lock him away."

"I know…"

Shawn started to reason with himself, he tried to find ways to reassure himself that he was safe. After all, Mauricio didn't know that Shawn was the one who told the police. Mauricio didn't even know his real name. Surely Shawn would be perfectly safe. All he needed to do was get the hell away from the station, and he needed to stay the hell away from Mauricio. Maybe in a few days' time, things would all go back to normal.

"I need to get out of here," Shawn muttered to Juliet. He quickly turned for the exit and was about to run out of there, when the man in question finally appeared.

Mauricio walked towards the exit, two officers and a lawyer flanking him. He walked calmly and smugly down the corridor, and Shawn could do nothing but stand still and stare. Eventually, Mauricio and Shawn made eye contact, and just in a few seconds, they both understood everything. Mauricio figured out that it was Shawn who had reported him. Mauricio figured out that 'Trey' wasn't known as Trey here. And Shawn now knew that Mauricio was figuring it all out. Shawn now knew that he was in terrible trouble.


	4. The Threat

**Hello lovelys!**

**You know, I was just looking back at one of my first PsychFics, and I realised that I had updated that one almost **_**daily**_**. How in the hell did I do that? I can **_**barely**_** do weekly updates!**

**This is probably the shortest chapter of this Fic, so I don't really know why it took so long to update...**

**Anyways, please review! Would mean so much to me to hear what you think.**

* * *

Present Day

"Look, Lassie, all I'm saying is that I'd be a lot easier to deal with if I had some food in my stomach," Shawn tried to reason.

"Spencer, I'm not going to sneak in Jerk Chicken for you," Carlton dismissed.

"But I'm the guest!" Shawn insisted.

"You're not a guest, you're a witness, and more importantly, a suspect," Carlton retaliated.

"A suspect? For what crime?!"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe stealing the Lost Diamonds?"

"Lassie, I did explain to you that I had no choice."

"No, you didn't. You explained in _immense_ detail the process of stealing them, and you explained the robbery, but you never once explained _why_ you stole them."

"Well, I was _trying_ to. It's not my fault someone is being such a sour puss today. If you would just let me carry on with my story like a good little boy, maybe you could understand a bit more."

Carlton turned to Juliet. Just one look and she knew exactly what her partner was thinking. "You can't shoot Shawn," Juliet said immediately.

"But he's being difficult!" Carlton complained.

"Carlton, if you shot every victim, witness or suspect that was being difficult, you would be one of the most notorious serial killers in the world!"

"I never said I'd kill them," Carlton muttered. "Just shoot them…"

"Thanks, Lassie," Shawn retorted from where he sat. "I can feel the love. It resonates from your heart, out your mouth, and on to me."

"That's disgusting."

"You're the one doing it. I'm just the poor unfortunate soul who lies on the receiving end.

Carlton looked at his partner once again. "Please, just in the arm. Just a small shot," he begged.

"Carlton, play nice," Juliet ordered.

"Yeah, Lassie, play nice," Shawn teased.

"You too, Shawn," Juliet warned.

"Me? What did I do?"

"Shawn." Juliet gave her boyfriend a look, and that was all he needed. It reminded him that he was still in a lot of trouble, not just with the law, but also with her. The more cooperative he was and the easier he made this for everyone involved, the sooner it would be resolved, and the better it would be for him.

"Okay, you win," Shawn said at last. "Look, after Mauricio figured out that I was the one who informed the police, I knew I had to keep a low profile…"

* * *

Nine Days Ago

Shawn hopped of his bike at the Psych office. He had been driving around Santa Barbara for a grand total of seven hours. At first, he was driving to clear his mind. But, the more he drove, the safer he felt, and he didn't want to lose that feeling. When he had to top up on gas, that feeling of danger came back with an almighty vengeance. Shawn didn't feel safe anywhere anymore. Every time he turned his head, he was convinced he saw Mauricio there. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that look in his eyes when he saw him. Shawn couldn't escape him, and that terrified him.

That was what brought Shawn finally back into his Psych office. He had decided, he couldn't go home. Mauricio most likely looked him up and found out where he lived. Shawn couldn't go back to his house, Mauricio would be waiting for him. So he figured he'd get his emergency supplies that he kept at the office and take off. He had done it before, taken off for a week without explanation. Granted, he hadn't done it in years, but surely they would understand.

Shawn unlocked his office doors and quickly walked inside, being sure to close it behind him. As soon as he walked in, he finally noticed that all the blinds were down. Shawn questioned it for less than a second before moving on, he had for more things to worry about. He started to move towards his desk, when out of nowhere, he was pinned to the wall. Shawn had tried to push the attacker away, but they quickly retaliated with a punch to the face, and he was pinned once again to the wall. Before he could fight back again, Shawn felt a knife pressed to his neck. He froze in absolute terror as the last face he wanted to see came into view.

"Well, hello, Trey," Mauricio said, a sickening grin growing on his face. "Or… is it Shawn Spencer now?"

It took a moment before Shawn could find his voice again. "It's always been Shawn," he admitted at last. Mauricio let out a single laugh.

"Well, aren't you the best liar I've ever seen!" he laughed again. "And psychic? How long have you been a psychic?" Shawn didn't say a word, and Mauricio started laughing again. "Lying to the police?" again, Shawn didn't answer, and Mauricio laughed harder. "You're a criminal too! Just like me!"

"Never like you," Shawn immediately responded. "I help people."

"So do I," Mauricio said with a smile. Shawn glared at the man in front of him, but with a knife on his throat, that was the most he could do. "Ricky thinks you're dead," Mauricio said, going off on a different note.

"I know," Shawn whispered.

"I should kill you right now."

Mauricio pressed his knife harder on Shawn's neck. The psychic could do nothing but try to stretch his neck out of the way, which, of course, was useless. Shawn knew his protests would be ignored, but he tried anyways. He wouldn't beg. Spencer men don't beg. Mauricio pressed harder with his knife and finally drew blood. Shawn grabbed at Mauricio's arm, trying to push it away, but he didn't make much progress.

Mauricio leaned in closer to Shawn, the smile on his face only growing, before he started to speak, "You really are the luckiest son of a bitch to ever live." The knife's pressure was lifted from Shawn's neck, finally allowing him to breathe. "You see, _Shawn Spencer_, I'm done. With Ricky, with our business… I'm just done with it. I've got a family now, and quite frankly, I want to live to see my girl grow up. So I'll be retiring, now."

"So you're just going to leave?" Shawn asked hopefully.

"You wish it was that simple," Mauricio laughed. "No, you see, to get out _and_ keep my family safe, I have to give Ricky something of high value, to buy my freedom. The Lost Diamonds. But, to be honest, I'm not picky. I could either give him the diamonds, or you."

And now Shawn's fear came back strong. "Me?"

"Yes. The one man who could put him away for life is living and walking to streets of California. I think Ricky would find that _very_ interesting, don't you?"

"Don't…" Shawn breathed out

"Well, see, now that's up to you. There is a plane leaving to New York in exactly one week's time. I _will_ be on that plane, and I _will_ have something of value by then. It's your choice as to whether that item of interest is the diamonds, or you."

"You want me to steal the Lost Diamonds?" Shawn asked incredulously.

"Now you're getting it!"

"I can't do that! I'm not a criminal!"

"This office begs to differ." Shawn didn't respond. Mauricio removed his knife from Shawn's neck and took a step back. "I strongly suggest you consider your options more carefully, Mr. Psychic. Make no mistake, Ricky _will _kill you. So what would you rather be? A thief, or dead?" Mauricio walked casually to the office front door and opened it. He turned back to Shawn, his smile never leaving his face. "Have a nice day," Mauricio said, and he walked out the door, leaving Shawn with a decision to make.

* * *

Present Day

Carlton stared at Shawn, almost mad at the psychic. He _worked_ with the police on a weekly basis. He had consulted on countless cases, and he had grown up with _Henry Spencer_ of all people. Surely Shawn, of all people, should know that the best option for the victim is always, _always_, to go to the police. And this infuriated Carlton to no end.

"So, you see," Shawn continued. "I didn't really have a choice. It was get the diamonds, or die."

"You had a choice," Carlton grumbled. "You could have come to us, you stubborn idiot. We could have helped you." Shawn just laughed and shook his head. "No, don't you laugh at that. You of all people should understand what lengths the police will go to if it means protecting their people. You could have come to us."

"Lassie, last time I went to the police about these people, I nearly died," Shawn snapped. "Mauricio and Ricky and all their partners came after me, and they all beat me within an inch of my life. The police said they could protect me, and they failed miserably. I don't doubt the police's ability to protect people. I just know that when it comes to these guys… no where's safe."

Carlton and Juliet exchanged a serious look. Shawn was never like this. Shawn was never afraid. Whoever they were dealing with, this was serious. And that worried both of them, yes, even Carlton was worried about the resident psychic. He may be an idiot, and a nuisance, and annoying, but he was in trouble, and they would do all they could to protect him.

"Who exactly _are_ they?" Carlton asked. "And for the _love_ of God, why won't you start this insane story from the beginning?"

"That was the beginning," Shawn responded quickly.

"That can_not_ be the beginning."

"Why not?"

"Why not?!" Carlton repeated incredulously. "Why do they think you're dead?! Why does it matter to them that you're still alive?! How the hell did you get mixed up with them in the first place?!"

"Lassie, you gotta be more specific in where to start. You heard him, Jules, right? You heard him say 'explain how Mauricio and the bank robbery tie into this story,' right?"

"Yes, Shawn," Juliet responded.

"O'Hara!"

"What, you did say that. You should be more clear on where he should start."

"Fine! Tell me how you got mixed up with them." Shawn opens him mouth. "and start from the VERY beginning!"

"Well, you see, when a mommy loves a daddy _very_ much-"

"Spencer!"

"Okay! Fine! It started about… 16 years ago, in New York…"


	5. The First Encounter

**Hello lovelys!**

**Sorry for the delay in uploading. I've been quite busy. Better late than never, right?**

**This was originally going to be a super long chapter. It was going to be combined with the next chapter, but then I thought it was too long. So I cut it in two.**

**Please review!**

* * *

16 Years Ago

It was late September, 1997. Shawn had officially been out of his house and away from his father for two years, three months, and eleven days. Ever since the young man had jumped on his motorbike and drove away, he had been hopping state to state, picking up random jobs and working with them until he got bored. When he did, he would try to find the most ridiculous and fun way to get fired or to quit. Once the job was out of his life, Shawn went back to travelling.

At first, the young man had a lot of trouble avoiding his father. Henry Spencer was a damn good cop. He could track down a criminal up to the entrance of hell if he wanted. So, it came as no surprise to Shawn to find that somehow, his father always knew where he was. But, that all changed seven months and thirteen days ago. Shawn came up with a new system. After meeting some interesting people in Vegas, Shawn got new contacts who could supply him with all types of papers. So, before Shawn moved on to a new state, he made sure that he had a new identity. He knew that this was illegal, but it was just so effective. He only wish he could have seen the look on his father's face when he realised he could no longer track down his son.

Shawn had been living in New York for the past month under the false identity of Trey Mathews. Trey had landed a couple of acting jobs in New York, nothing big, but enough to make him feel good about himself. He lived in a decent, but exceedingly overpriced flat just on the outskirts of the city, only a twenty minute commute away from his day job. After only one month, Shawn felt that maybe it was time to ditch Trey and get a new identity again. Sure, it had only been one month and Trey was far from bored, but so far this month had proven to be his most expensive month yet. He simply couldn't afford it.

So Shawn left his work at nine o'clock at night, still contemplating what to do with Trey and his life in New York. He had to be realistic about it, and not just decide what to do based on what he wanted to do. Rent needed paying.

"Trey, wait," Shawn heard a woman call after him. He turned around to see Felicia running towards her.

"My fair maiden!" Shawn – or, Trey – called out to her. Felicia was a sweet and kind woman, always helping Shawn out with settling in to this new state, but she simply wasn't his type. So yes, Shawn would flirt, but never enough to give her the idea that something might happen between them.

Felicia smiled at him and slowed her pace down so she could simply walk towards him. "I have a favour to ask of you," she said when she was standing in front of him. Shawn's smile was enough to tell her that he would do his best to help, so she continued, "Parking was a nightmare this afternoon, so I ended up parking my car in this really dodgy area. I was wondering if you could just walk me to my car? I could give you a ride home."

"Of course," Shawn said immediately, already waiting for her to lead the way. "But there really is no need for the ride. I'm completely out of your way. I'll just get the subway back." Felicia smiled at him, grateful for the company.

So the two of them walked side by side to her car, talking the whole time about nothing at all. they walked for a good ten minutes, before finally, a red car came in to view. Shawn walked her to the car door, with the intention of waiting until she got in the car before he left for his own home.

"Thank you," Felicia said, her smile still fixed on her face.

"Don't mention it," Shawn responded simply.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride home?" Felicia asked again.

"Very sure. I'm in the opposite direction from you. I wouldn't feel right about it."

"Well, you know," Felicia took a couple steps closer to Shawn, until she was only a couple inches away. "You could just come back to my place…"

Shawn was a bit slow to understand what she was suggesting, but when it finally hit him, he instinctively took a couple steps back. "Oh, no, no, no," Shawn said quickly. "No, that doesn't sound like a good idea." Felicia's face automatically dropped, and Shawn had to feel sorry for her. He really didn't think his flirting suggested any interest. He always flirted with people.

"But… I thought –"

"I got to go," Shawn said quickly and turned towards the only exit he could see, a very dark and quite frankly creepy alleyway.

"You got to go _there_?" Felicia asked, staring incredulously as Shawn made his way down the alleyway.

"Yep. I've got very important… business to take care of here. Very important." Shawn picked up his pace, just desperate to get away from this situation.

"Are you serious?!" Felicia called after him. Shawn could hear her groan, before she yelled, "Asshole!" and sat in her car. Shawn kept walking down the alleyway, even after he heard Felicia's car drive off, he kept walking. Hell, he kept walking until he didn't even know where he was anymore.

Shawn wandered around a little more until he finally decided he was lost. He had no idea where the nearest subway station was, or even which it was and how he would get home. No, all he knew was he went down a creepy alleyway which led to another creepy alleyway, and it continued like that. Shawn was almost tempted to just go back the way he came and try to find a way out from there, but then he heard voices. He figured he could just ask whoever was there how to get to a main road. He could figure out his way from there. So Shawn followed the voices to the source, but nothing could have prepared him for what he had just walked in on.

There was a group of five men, all dressed in suits. While the lighting was terrible in the alleyway, Shawn's eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see each of them clearly. The man in the middle was carrying two guns, on a holster on his waist and the other strapped to his ankle. The man directly to his right was pointing a gun to a man Shawn couldn't see. That man was clearly the youngest of them all; he couldn't be older than twenty five. The other three men all had one gun in their holster, but their jacket was moved so their guns could be on display.

"Sam… oh Sam," the man in the middle said disapprovingly to the man Shawn couldn't see. "You know, I thought you knew better than this."

"Please," the mystery man begged, and Shawn could hear it easily in his voice that the man was close to tears. "One more week, I'll get you the money. Please."

"I seem to recall you making the same plea last week," the man in the middle said. "And quite frankly, I'm tired of your excuses. I've been patient with you, Sammy." The man in the middle glanced at the men around him. "Have I not been patient with him?" he asked them all.

"Yes, boss," came the reply of the man holding the gun.

"Very patient," another said.

"See?" the man in the middle asked, addressing 'Sam' again.

"Please," Sam begged again. "Just one more week."

"And then another, and another and another…" the man in the middle shook his head. "That's not how I do business."

"Please," Sam tried again. The man in the middle just smiled at him, a horrible sickening smile.

"Mauricio?" the man in the middle calmly called out. "Kill him."

The man holding the gun smiled for just a second before he pulled the trigger. Shawn didn't see the body drop, but he heard it. and he knew for as long as he lived, he would never forget that sound.

Shawn stared at the group of them, frozen in place. They hadn't noticed him, and he prayed with all his heart they wouldn't. He knew what he had to do, he needed to call the police. He needed to report this. So Shawn slowly backed up, ready to turn and sprint as soon as he deemed himself safe. Much to Shawn's absolute fear, he bumped into trash cans, knocking over one of the lids, making an unbelievably loud sound as it fell to the floor. Shawn froze where he stood, staring at the lid on the floor as if it were the most insulting object in the world.

"Who's there?" Shawn heard the main man ask. Shawn suddenly found three flashlights pointing his way. "Hey, kid," the man said. "Come over here a second."

Finally, Shawn's brain caught up with the situation, and his body responded to his demands. Shawn took off running in any random direction. He didn't know where to go, he just knew he had to run.

"Damn it! Mauricio, Danny, get him. You two, help me with this body!"

Shawn ran as fast as his legs would allow it. His father had taught him well in running, always in zig zags. While doing so in an alleyway was limiting, it was effective. Shawn ran with every ounce of will power he had, very aware of the fact that both men chasing after him had guns that were easily accessible. They could shoot them if they wanted to, and he knew they wouldn't even hesitate.

After a good two minutes of Shawn took a sharp turn and could finally see the main road ahead of him. if he got to the main road, he had more space to run and more witnesses to prevent his murder. He just needed to make it to the main road. And finally, he was so close to the main road he could almost taste his freedom. He was so close, and suddenly, a black car screeched to a stop, blocking Shawn's exit. He quickly stopped and prepared to run in the opposite direction, but before he could even attempt it, there was a gun in his face. It was the same man who had previously pulled the trigger – Mauricio.

"Get in the car," he ordered.

"I didn't see anything," Shawn automatically responded, putting his hands in the air, but not taking a single step towards that car. Mauricio retaliated by punching Shawn in the face, causing his head to whip to the side, but nothing was broken.

"I said _get in the fucking car_!" Mauricio ordered again. This time Shawn complied. He walked over to the car and allowed Mauricio to pull open the door and push him in. In the driver's seat was the other man sent to chase Shawn – Danny. Mauricio entered after him, shutting the door behind him and locking it. Shawn didn't have the gun held to his head at any point during the car ride, but he knew better than to try anything.

After another five minutes in the car, they all found themselves on a deserted bridge. Danny put the handbrake on and exited the car. He opened the door next to Shawn and made space for him to get out. Mauricio held his gun and put it against Shawn's head. "Out," he ordered, and Shawn knew he had to listen. Shawn scooted out of the car and then stood for himself, fully aware of Mauricio following after him. Danny shut the door to the car and stared at Shawn. Mauricio put his gun back in his holster, and he and Danny exchanged a look. They both smiled and nodded.

Mauricio grabbed Shawn from behind, wrapping his arms around his chest while Danny grabbed his legs. Despite all of Shawn's kicking and screaming, they managed to pick him up and carry him towards the edge of the bridge. Danny pushed Shawn's legs over the ledge of the bridge while Mauricio kept a tight hold of him. Shawn managed to twist his body around and plant his feet on the outside of the ledge of the bridge while also grabbing a tight hold of the younger man. Mauricio had a sickening smile grow on his face, and Shawn was almost positive that any second now he was going to get pushed off.

"Hey, Pascale, don't do anything yet," Danny cautioned. Mauricio glared at the clearly more experienced man. "Look, I get it, you like shooting people and chucking them off bridges, but you work for Ricky now. You can't so much as _sneeze _without his approval. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it," Mauricio said bitterly.

So Shawn knew. For now, he was safe. Until he saw Ricky again – the man who Shawn assumed was calling all the shots before – Shawn was safe. Once he saw the boss again, Shawn would have to talk his way out of this. As a kid, he had become an expert in getting away with things. He was able to talk his way out of any trouble, no matter how guilty he was or how he was caught. Granted, as a child he was talking his way out of detention, not death.

It didn't take long before a second car drove on to the bridge and stopped just behind their car. The boss and the two other men got out and walked towards Shawn. Mauricio stared at the boss, clearly just waiting for the word, waiting for his command, and he would kill Shawn without even flinching. Ricky looked Shawn up and down before he sighed and turned to his most eager worker.

"Mauricio," he breathed out, and Shawn immediately knew what his order was going to be.

"Please," Shawn interrupted him. "I swear, I didn't see anything."

Ricky narrowed his eyes before walking towards him. "What's your name?" he asked. Shawn blinked twice, confused.

"Trey," he finally answered. "Trey Mathews. "

"How old are you, Trey?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty? Have you had your first drink yet?"

Shawn arched an eyebrow, but answered, "No. I mean, I was offered in school, but my parents were – "

"I didn't ask for your life story, kid," Ricky interrupted. "Where's your wallet?"

"Back pocket."

"Danny," Ricky ordered. Danny reached over the ledge of the bridge and patted Shawn's pocket before he found his wallet. He tossed it at Ricky, who opened it immediately. He pulled out Shawn's fake ID and studied it. He then put it back in the wallet and tucked it in his suit pocket. "I don't like liars, Trey. So I'm going to ask once. What did you see in the alleyway?"

"Nothing – " Ricky smacked Shawn across the face.

"One more chance, Trey."

"I… I saw all five of you," Shawn started. "You were talking to a man named Sam. This guy," Shawn eyed Mauricio, "shot him dead. That's it."

"Hmm… that puts me in a very difficult situation then. You see, you just witnessed a murder." Ricky and Mauricio exchanged a glance, while all Shawn could do was stare.

"I won't tell anyone," Shawn said quickly. "Please," he said again.

Ricky stared at Shawn for a moment, and he looked almost intrigued by him. "What do you remember about Sam?"

"Nothing. I didn't see him."

"Oh, Trey… I told you I didn't like liars," Ricky had a frown on his face, almost as if he was genuinely disappointed. He looked at Mauricio and nodded before turning away from Shawn. Mauricio smiled and wrenched free one of his hands. With his now free hand, he grabbed for his gun. Shawn stared wide eyed for a second before realising he still had a lot of talking to do.

"Wait!" Shawn called after Ricky, but he didn't turn. "The alleyway was three meters wide with trash cans every block. The alleyway that you and your four men were standing at was at a cross road of alleyways. Your name is Ricky, judging by what I heard from Danny. When you were confronting Sam, you had Mauricio to your right and Danny to your left. The other two, I still don't know their names, but the one with the green tie was at the end on your right and the one with the blue tie was at the end on your left. You had your gun in your holster, but your jacket was covering it. Your second gun was strapped to your left ankle. Mauricio was pointing his gun at Sam, while the other three left theirs in their holster.

"You keep your holster on your left because you shoot with your left hand, despite being right handed. Which means you most likely are cross dominant, meaning your left eye is your dominant eye, which creates such a hassle for you with shooting. So, you taught yourself how to shoot with your left hand for two reasons. One, better aim and it's easier to shoot. Two, if you're ever caught on camera, they will look for left handed people, and that's not you.

"When I knocked over the trash, you were the first to shine your flashlight on me. When I took off running, no one ran after me, and that infuriated you to no end because these guys won't do anything until you say it. Some part of you likes it because that way you know they'll never do anything to upset you, but part of you hates it because they can't think for themselves. I also know you're starting to worry about green tie man because he recently got hitched and you're worried he won't be reliable anymore."

Everyone stared at Shawn.

"How… in the hell…" Ricky started.

"I have an eidetic memory," Shawn explained. "That, and I've been trained all my life to pick up the little details and use them to understand a person. I remember every detail I ever come across. Now I am telling you, I did _not_ see Sam. I have no idea what he looks like. I swear."

Ricky stared at Shawn for just a second longer, before he started to laugh. "Danny, Mauricio," he said, still with a smile on his face. " Bring the kid away from the ledge before he hurts himself."

"What?" Mauricio complained.

"Do it," Ricky said, giving the younger man a stern look.

Mauricio groaned but, with Danny's help, pulled Shawn back over the ledge. As soon as Shawn's feet touched the floor of the bridge, he couldn't control himself. His entire body was overcome with relief and he collapsed to the floor and he started taking deep breaths. Ricky knelt down in front of Shawn.

"Now Trey," he said. "I am going to take a big risk with you. I'm going to let you go," they both heard Mauricio's protest in the background, but they all chose to ignore it. "If I ever find out you went to the cops, about _anything_ that happened tonight, you will be _very_ sorry. Am I understood?"

Shawn was unable to find words, so he nodded.

Ricky threw his keys and Mauricio. "The body's in the trunk. Get rid of it."

"Yes, boss," Mauricio responded bitterly. He, along with Green-Tie and Blue-Tie went to the second car to get rid of it.

"Danny, you're driving me and Trey. We're going to drop our new friend off at home."

"What?" Shawn immediately responded.

"I want to know where you live. And quite frankly, you're not in the position to try and prevent that. Now get your ass in that car. We still need to talk."

Shawn, of course, complied. He got up and made his way into the first car. Danny went into the driver's seat, and Ricky was in the passenger seat. The ride was silent except for Shawn occasionally explaining where to go. It wasn't until they had finally stopped right outside his apartment building that Ricky started speaking up again.

"You're still a kid, aren't you, Trey?" he asked.

Shawn was confused by the question, but he knew better than to ignore one of his questions. "I guess. My dad always called me 'kid'. I don't really think he'll ever stop."

"Do you know what it takes to be a man?"

"Maturity?" Shawn tried.

"God no," Ricky immediately responded. "Being a man means being able to get what you want. It means nothing stands in your way. _Nothing_. Being a man takes dignity. You never know the exact moment you become a man, but you never forget the moment when you realise you _are_ a man. Do you know what moment in my life made me realise I was a man?"

"No."

"When I was twenty nine, I was working for my father. We had a fallout, and I went to one of the bars near home. And there I saw it, a beautiful bottle of Talisker Whiskey, aged 18 years. And I wanted it. Without a penny to my name, how would I get it though? A good bottle is worth over a hundred dollars. So you know what I did?"

"What?"

"I took it. Over the next couple weeks, I drank the whole damn thing. And I enjoyed every drop." Ricky turned around and handed Shawn a card. He then looked him in the eye, "when you become a man, call me. I might just have a position open for you." Shawn cautiously took the card and then stared at Ricky.

"Is this why you let me live?" Shawn asked at last. "Because you see some… potential in me?"

"Yes," Ricky answered simply. He handed Shawn back his wallet and turned back towards the front of the car. "Now, Trey, get the fuck out before your neighbours start getting suspicious."

Shawn blinked twice in pure shock before opening his door and getting out. He stood outside his building as he watched the car drive off. It took him a couple seconds before he was able to function again and direct himself back into his building and up the stairs. When he finally got in his room, he stared at the clock angrily. He had six hours before he had to be up to get ready for work, and Shawn already knew he wasn't going to get any sleep. So, he just flopped on his bed, and stared up at his ceiling, still slightly dazed.

Well… tonight was certainly… interesting.


	6. The Video

**Hello lovelys! I am so sorry with how long it took to update this. I've been working twelve hour shifts at the hospital. When I get home, I barely have the energy to cook my dinner and shower before I collapse onto my bed, let alone work on this fic. **

**I'll try to update on weekends.**

**Please review!**

* * *

It had been two weeks since Shawn had had a good night's sleep. He was exhausted. Two weeks since Shawn's brush with death. Since then, he hadn't heard a word from Ricky or anyone to do with them. On one hand, he was horrified. Those people had just killed a man and they were getting away with it. On the other hand, a slightly selfish hand, Shawn was safe. If they weren't discovered, they would have no reason to go after Shawn. He knew it was selfish to want them to get away with it, and he knew it would be difficult to live with that thought, but at lease he'd be alive to have those thoughts in the first place. There was no point in feeling proud and righteous if you weren't alive to feel it.

He had initially considered going to the NYPD about the crime, but he had seen enough gang related crimes to know how that would turn out for him. So he was shamefully and cowardly silent throughout the whole ordeal.

Shawn returned to work, where the only danger he faced was a very angry and passive aggressive Felicia. They hardly ever spoke since Shawn had walked her to her car on that faithful day. Felicia was furious at Shawn for leading him on, while Shawn was furious at her for being the cause of all this. Yes, deep down Shawn knew Felicia wasn't to blame, but he wasn't being rational anymore. All he knew was that if he hadn't walked Felicia to her car, if she hadn't misinterpreted his harmless flirting, if she hadn't made a move at Shawn, he wouldn't be in this mess.

Shawn stared at the clock for the seventh time in the past hour. He had been debating a very important decision for the past two weeks, and he had finally made a decision. He was going to skip town again, change his identity, and keep running until he was sure there wasn't a single trace of his time spent in New York. Maybe, just maybe, he'd call in a tip. Tomorrow. Okay, next week. Next month? Maybe a year from now. You know what, on his death bed. Yeah, that was a good idea. All that was left to do now was get home, pack his bags and leave.

He looked up at the clock again. One minute had passed. God, this day was never going to end.

The sound of the door opening caught the attention of both Felicia and Shawn. It wasn't common to get customers at this time, and definitely not in groups. Shawn stood up straight as he saw the group of three men approach him. At first, he assumed Ricky. He knew. Somehow, the man knew what Shawn was thinking, that he was going to leave, that he was debating telling the police. He knew. But then, Shawn noticed the badge. And he wasn't sure why, but that scared him even more.

"Can I help you?" Shawn asked when the men were in front of him.

"Yes, I'm Detective Baxter, from the NYPD," the man in the centre answered, flashing his badge as he spoke. "This is Detective Reid and Officer Morgan," Detective Baxter said, gesturing to the two men by his side. "We're looking for Trey Mathews."

Shawn stared at the men in front of him. He saw the recognition in his eyes. He knew that they knew they found who they were looking for. There was no point in lying. "That's me," he answered them. "What can I do for you?"

"We're investigating the murder of Samuel Parker and we have reason to believe that you know something about it. We would like to ask you a couple questions."

Shawn's heart stopped beating at his words, but his poker face stayed on. "I don't know a Samuel Parker," he said to them. Shawn noticed that quick gleam of frustration cross Detective Baxter's face. This man was on a short fuse, as any detective would be after two weeks of investigating.

"Samuel Parker was shot down in an alleyway two weeks ago. Five men are responsible and you know something about it, don't lie to me. Samuel Parker had a wife and kids who deserve to know why he died."

Shawn swallowed dryly. "What do you want from me? I don't know anyone named Samuel."

Detective Baxter glared at Shawn for a second. "I want to take you down to the station and show you something. Maybe then you'll be willing to answer some of my questions."

"No thanks," Shawn said.

"That wasn't a request," the agitated detective hissed through his teeth.

"Legally, it was." Detective Baxter glared even harder at Shawn, so he explained. "You can't force me to go to the station with you unless you're arresting me. So either charge me with something, or get out."

Detective Baxter started to smile. Shawn knew instantly that that was not a smile he should be happy to see.

"Funny you should mention that," he said. "You see, down at the station, we did a little background check of you, _Trey Mathews_. You know what we found?"

"What?" Shawn asked, suddenly feeling his heart going out of control.

"Nothing."

Shawn blinked twice, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Detective Baxter repeated. "Absolutely nothing! We have your social security number, we have your current address, your insurance, your license and your work address. Other than that, nothing. No family, no high school, no medical records… nothing. Prior to six weeks ago, Trey Mathews did not exist.

"You're running from something, or someone. And here's the thing, I already checked with the US Marshall. Trey Mathews is not one of the names they've used for witness protection. You've done this all on your own. Now, I must give credit where it is due. You have done an absolutely _fantastic_ job of concealing your past. Unfortunately, what you have done is also very illegal. So it's your choice, Mr. Mathews. You can come in with us peacefully and answer a couple questions and we'll forget about the whole thing. If not, I'll bring your ass in for identity fraud, and while you're there, ask you the very same questions I would have asked in the first place."

Shawn was speechless for a second. When he finally found his voice again, he answered, "I'll um… I'll answer your questions."

"Good choice," Detective Baxter said and gestured to the front door, allowing Shawn to lead them out of the building first, as if to make sure he would go. Shawn looked around nervously. He couldn't be seen going to the station. They'd know. Ricky _would_ find out.

"Here… please," Shawn said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't go to the station. I can't."

"You lost your right to negotiate on this."

"Please. Whatever questions you ask me at the station, you can ask them here."

"I've had enough. You are getting in that car and we are going to the station. Whether you are in cuffs or not, I really don't care! So what's it going to be?"

So finally, after a moment longer of hesitation, Shawn started walking with the detectives to the car and they all made their way to the station.

* * *

Upon arriving at the NYPD, Detective Baxter wasted no time. He guided Shawn into a room with a TV in. He sat the young witness down at the table in front of it, turned off the lights and turned on the TV. Shawn had questioned what was going on, but Detective Baxter just shushed him and told him to watch the screen. Shawn did, and he could feel his whole body freeze up. This couldn't be happening.

The TV was showing a video surveillance of the alleyway. Of Samuel Parker. Of his murder. The five men responsible for the death had their back to the camera, almost as if they knew it was there. Sam's face, however, was in perfect view.

Shawn spent the entirety of the surveillance video just staring at Sam's face. He hadn't seen the man before, and now that he had, he could feel the guilt creep in him, the shame take over his every thought, and the feeling of uselessness over power him. He flinched when the shot was fired in the surveillance, and try as he might, he couldn't take his eyes away from the dead body on screen. The dead body of Samuel Parker. It was so much easier to ignore when Shawn didn't have a face to go with the name. When he didn't even have a full name to begin with.

The five men on screen suddenly all looked up to a point on screen that Shawn still hadn't acknowledged. Two of the five men ran off screen, and Shawn realised that must be when Mauricio and Danny started chasing him.

The video suddenly stopped. Detective Baxter rewinded the tape and paused it at a particular moment. It didn't take long for Shawn to notice his own face on the screen. There, in the background, almost invisible in the darkness. He was there, and they knew he was there.

"We passed this picture of you around," Detective Baxter explained. "We just hoped to find an ID on you. we didn't think you'd be alive. Two of his men chased after you, we just assumed the worst." Shawn remained silent. His eyes were automatically drawn back to the corpse on screen. "That young woman you worked with ID'd you, and that was when our investigation started." They both sat in silence for a moment. Detective Baxter was patiently waiting for Shawn to speak up, but he never did. He kept staring at Samuel. "Look, kid, we need answers."

Shawn debated his options. He was already at the station. Odds were, Ricky knew he was here. He couldn't talk his way out of this one, and he knew that. So maybe it was for the best if Shawn told the police everything. they could protect him. Then again, the detective was threatening to send him to jail. And no, Shawn _definitely_ couldn't have that. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Ricky knew people in prisons. They could finish the job should Shawn ever want to cut down his prison time. No, Shawn needed a guarantee.

"I can't go to jail," Shawn said at last.

Detective Baxter stared at Shawn, stunned, just for a second. "Excuse me?"

"I need it in writing. If I cooperate, you'll forget about this little… identity issue we have."

"I guarantee it."

Shawn and Detective Baxter stared at each other a moment longer. Shawn was scared. He didn't want to die. He was young, he was a free spirit. He couldn't _die_. Not now. Shawn took in a deep breath and finally gave in.

"I don't know where to start," he admitted.

"Court," the detective answered.

"Excuse me?"

"We already know who's behind this. Ricardo Paulesu. Clean record until the age of twenty nine. He was working with his father, and the night after the famous father son fallout, Ricardo Paulesu Senior died under mysterious circumstances. Since then, Ricky has found himself new friends, new hobbies and a new job. We never had enough to nail the son of a bitch. Not for his father's death, and not for Samuel Parker's. But now, we have a witness who will testify. He and his friends will go to jail and pay for the crimes they committed."

It took a second for Shawn to catch on.

"You want me to testify in court against him?" Shawn asked, almost outraged.

"Yes."

"Are you crazy?!" Shawn demanded. Detective raised an eyebrow, surprised by Shawn's outburst. "They'll kill me long before I even lay my eyes on the courtroom! I will be six feet under before I can even approach the stand!"

"You said you would cooperate – "

"Cooperating is one thing, but actually testifying? You must be out of your damn mind."

Detective Baxter slammed his fist down on the table, making Shawn jump.

"Samuel Parker is dead!" he yelled. "How can you stare directly at the men who killed him and let them go? How can you stare at Samuel's dead body and not want the people who did this to him to pay?!"

"Do you think I want them to get out free? Do you think I _want_ a man to be dead? That I sleep easy at night? Do you really think this is that _easy_?!Well I'll tell you what, it was a hell of a lot easier before I saw his face! Before I even knew what his name was! Back when all I knew was that a gun had been fired. At least then I could pretend! At least then I could…" Shawn paused for a moment and held back tears he knew would fall very soon. "I could _live_ with myself…"

For the first time that day, Detective Baxter was understanding. He listened to Shawn and didn't push him.

"I don't want to die," Shawn continued.

"You won't," Detective Baxter assured him. Shawn scoffed and shook his head.

"No matter what I choose, I'm dead. If I testify, they'll kill me. If I stay silent, I may as well be dead."

Detective Baxter stared at Shawn, finally taking him in as he should have when he first laid eyes on him. _Trey_ was still just a kid. He witnessed something absolutely traumatising and was then threatened. He was both traumatised and terrified. And judging by the bags under his eyes, the kid was also severely exhausted.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" the Detective sked gently.

Shawn raised an eyebrow at the question, but answered regardless. "three."

"When was the last time you had more than three hours sleep?"

"Two weeks."

"Look, kid. Why don't you head back to your place and sleep on it. There's no need to make any pressured decisions. Come back in tomorrow with your answer."

"And if I decide not to testify?" Shawn asked.

"Then I can't guarantee anything." Shawn stared down at the table. "Think it over," Detective Baxter advised. "weight out your options and then come back tomorrow with you rdecision."

With that, Shawn left the station, completely unaware that he was being watched.

* * *

"Dammit, Frank, this is an emergency!" Shawn yelled into the payphone. He had to leave. He had to leave this city right now. He'd leave a tip for the police, give in writing his statement or call in a tip about Ricky being cross dominant. That would certainly help identify him in videos.

'Look man, IDs take time,' Frank responded on the other line. 'Emergency or not, I can't get you fake IDs of your usual quality within a day.'

"I am in serious shit, Frank," Shawn insisted.

'Then go back to being Shawn. Skip town and become Shawn until I can get you your new ID.'

"No, I can't do that. If they follow me, if they trace me, they'll trace the _real_ me. There's no escaping that. There's no way I could just ditch the identity and move on. I need a new one, and I need one now."

'Changing once won't solve your problems.'

"No, I realise that. I'll be needed to change identities a lot more often. At least until this blows over."

'How often are we talking about here?'

"Monthly, at least."

'Are you crazy? I'd be working my ass off twenty-four seven until you finally deal with this!'

"This isn't my fault!"

'Well maybe if you would just tell me what happened!' Frank sighed into the phone. 'Look, just tell me this… did you kill someone?'

"What?" Shawn said into the phone incredulously. "No!"

'So you witnessed one then.'

"How in the hell did you figure that out?"

'Look, Shawny boy, go to the police. They're there for a reason.'

"Yes, and while I'm there, why don't I explain to them where the name Trey Mathews came from!"

'Woah, seriously? Blackmail?'

"_I'm_ not blackmailing _you_ ,_" _Shawn assured him. "_They're_ blackmailing _me_! They know, man! They know I'm a fake! I told you, I can't explain. I just need an ID. I need to leave."

Shawn could hear Frank groan in the background.

'Fine,' Frank admitted defeat at last. 'Head over to New Haven on one of your old IDs. I'll meet you there and we'll sort this mess out. I may be able to keep you under the radar until I can get you a new identity.'

"Oh, Frank, you're a saint."

'Yeah, yeah. Just consider us even, alright? A life for a life.'

"Sure, whatever Frank. I'll meet you in New Haven. Same place that we met up last time?"

'Yeah. Just… don't get tailed on your way here, okay? Last thing I need is a bunch of cops snooping around my city.'

"You got it. Thanks, Frank. Seriously."

With that, Shawn hung up the phone. Now he had an exit strategy, his third option. He would go home, call in several tips and leave. He'd leave a letter for his landlord and his boss. He would and should care about the mess he was leaving for them, but his life was on the line. Soon enough, Trey Mathews wouldn't exist anyways. There was no point in trying to fix everything.

Shawn hurried home. He needed to pack and then leave. He wasn't even sure he could pack everything. just the essentials. He could get more stuff later. Right now, all that mattered was his safety.

Shawn finally arrived home and he quickly threw open the door to his apartment complex. He ran up the stairs two at a time before finally arriving at his floor. He shoved his key into the lock and swung open the door. He quickly walked into his house, but stopped dead in his tracks when he arrived in his living room. He could feel his blood turn to ice. This couldn't be happening. Not now. He got an exit strategy… this _couldn't_ be happening.

"Have a seat, Trey," Ricky said, gesturing to the couch closest to Shawn. Ricky was sitting on Shawn's arm chair with his feet resting on the coffee table. Cigarette buds littered his floor, and Ricky was lighting another now. The two men that Shawn never got a name for stood behind Ricky. They just stared at Shawn. "I said, have a seat," Ricky ordered again.

Shawn was suddenly forced into the seat. He looked up and saw Mauricio and Danny pushing him down into his favourite couch. Ricky stood up and walked over to Shawn.

"I have eyes everywhere," Ricky said. "Including the police station. _Especially_ to station."

"I swear, I didn't – " Ricky quickly cut off any excuse Shawn could have made with a back hand strong enough to cause Shawn to yelp and turn his cheek was bright red.

"Don't interrupt," Ricky said calmly. "you were at the station today. You talked to Detective Baxter and you cut a deal. He protects you, and you testify against me."

"I didn't – " another backhand.

"They're filing for a warrant of my arrest!" Ricky screamed. "Mere _minutes_ after you left, they're after me! And that protective detail, you think I wouldn't notice that?!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about – " this time a punch. Shawn could feel the blood running down his nose.

"The unmarked car following you around. The station is going crazy! they're talking warrants, arrests, court dates! And it's all centred around your testimony!"

"I didn't tell them anything!" Shawn screamed. When no hit came, Shawn continued. "I swear. They called me in, but I didn't tell them anything. He tried everything to get me to talk. He even threatened to throw me in jail. I swear, I didn't say anything."

Ricky bent over to reach Shawn's eye level and leaned in to be a few inches away from Shawn's face. He blew smoke into the young man's face and smiled as Shawn tried desperately not to breathe it in.

"Then explain the protective detail," Ricky said.

Shawn shut his eyes and looked down. He knew. No matter what he said, no matter how convincing he was, Ricky wouldn't believe him. Ricky was going to kill him today.

"I had nothing to do with it," Shawn said softly. "I swear."

Ricky straightened up and moved back to his armchair. He put his feet up once again and took another drag of his cigarette.

"That may be so, but that doesn't change one tiny fact," Ricky looked Shawn right in the eye, and he almost smiled. "You're a loose end."

"No, please – "

"I spared your life two weeks ago because I figured they would never know of your existence. I figured one day, you could be of use to me. All you've done is cause me trouble."

"Don't – "

"But this whole experience did serve a purpose. Two weeks ago I was kind. I haven't been kind in almost ten years. This reminded me why."

"No, please, don't – "

"Boys," Ricky hesitated a second longer, fully taking in the look on Shawn's face. "Finish the job."

* * *

Present Day

"I um…" Shawn started, breaking the awkward silence that had taken over the interrogation room. "I don't really remember what happened next. All I know is that the next time I woke up I was in the hospital and it was the year 1998. I had several broken ribs, a broken collarbone, broken ankle and a bullet hole in my abdomen.

"Frank was there. He was always my emergency contact. Hours after I was supposed to meet him in New Haven, he got the call. He sat by me the entire time, always afraid to call my dad or Gus. To this day, neither of them have any idea what happened in New York. And… if at all possible, I'd like to keep it that way. They don't need to know this. There's no reason they should. I just don't want them to worry…"

"We'll keep the details out," Juliet assured her boyfriend. "But you know just as well as I do that they're not going to stop asking what happened until they're satisfied."

"I know…" Shawn said softly. He took a deep breath, then carried on. "after a few days, Detective Baxter found out that I was awake. He came by to visit and immediately asked me if I'd be willing to testify against them for the attack. He kept saying that with my testimony, he could put Ricky and his group away for a very long time. That was when I realised he was never going to stop. He didn't care about my safety, about my life. He only cared about putting Ricky away. And I was scared. So, I did what I do best."

"You ran," Carlton finished. And the tone in which he said it made Shawn furious. He glared at the head detective.

"You know what, Carlton? It is a completely different situation to ask a victim to testify and to actually testify yourself. Put yourself in my shoes, alright? Twenty years old, held on the edge of a _bridge_ and threatened with a gun pointed at you. Then, two weeks later, I get beat half to death before being shot! Forgive me for being scared for my life!" Shawn and Carlton stared at each other for a moment longer, Carlton's expression remaining hard, until Shawn finally exclaimed, "Hell yeah I ran!"

To Shawn's surprise, understanding filled the head detective's eyes and he nodded at the fake psychic.

"I don't blame you," he muttered under his breath, so low that Shawn could barely hear.

"What was that?" Shawn asked in shock.

"I said how about we take a break?"


End file.
